You Belong With Me
by Orange.Dreams.4.4.0.8
Summary: Songfic to the Taylor Swift song "You Belong With Me." Mark/Maureen, evetually Mark/Roger. Hope you like it! Review, my loves. :


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DISCLAIMER: I do not, nor ever will own Rent and all things affiliated with Rent. It belongs to the genius mind of Jonathan Larson. The song "You Belong With Me" Belongs to Taylor Swift.

**Hey guys, I've read a lot of fan fictions that include this song, and I was thinking about having Mark want Roger, but then I decided to mix things up a bit and make it Roger that yearns after Mark. Hope you enjoy it!**

**Reviews=Love… remember that… hint hint.**

**You Belong With Me... Rent Style**

"Speak!" The answering machine croaked, with an earsplitting 'Beep!' following. I looked at Mark and we both turned back to look at the Machine.

"Hi Mark, its Maureen. I'm just calling to say I love you, and I can't wait to see you again tonight, because last night was soooo much fun... why didn't we ever think of using whipped cream bef-"

Mark made a lunge for the phone, pale skin slowly turning beet red. I made a gagging gesture and turned back to the guitar that was forever cradled in my arms.

"Hi, Mo." Mark said, picking up the phone and turning away from me. "Yes, I thought it was a good idea too. Yes, I-what? No, No! I never said that? What? You know that's not what I meant..."

_You're on the phone with your girlfriend, She's upset  
She's going off about something that you said  
She doesn't get your humor like I do_

Mark trailed off, picking up the machine and slipping into the hallway, an attempt to conceal the rest of their fight from me. I plucked a few notes on the guitar. I don't know why Maureen is always hounding at Mark's throat. He never says anything bad. She just... doesn't understand his strange sense of humor, I guess.... Not like I do...

_I'm in the room, it's a typical Tuesday night  
I'm listening to the kind of music she doesn't like  
And she'll never know your story like I do_

A few hours later, I'm in my room, listening to my favorite record, the Beatles White Album, on the vintage record player Angel got for me on sale a few years back. I heard the door to the loft burst open, and Maureen poked her head through my doorframe as she passed.

"Still listening to music that's stuck in the seventies, huh Roger?" She asked teasingly. Just as she turned to leave Mark showed up, camera under his arm, and she pulled him into a kiss.

"Get a room..." I muttered, just loud enough for them to hear. Maureen looked over at me, then turned to pout at Mark.

"You don't like this music, do you Pookie?" She asked, still with that ridiculous pout painted on her face. Mark sighed.

"No... Of course not, Mo." He avoided my eye. I looked at him, rolling my eyes and shaking my head at him. I know for a fact that he loves when I play this record around the loft, and he knows almost every word to every song. But she doesn't know that. She doesn't know anything about him.

_  
But she wears short skirts, I wear t-shirts  
She's cheer captain and I'm on the bleachers  
Dreaming bout the day when you'll wake up and find  
That what you're looking for has been here the whole time_

Sometimes I wonder why Mark sticks around Maureen so much. He deserves so much better than Maureen. As much as I hate to admit it, I've been crushing on Mark for a year or so now. He was there for me when no one else was, when I was going through withdrawal. I want to show him that I can be there for him as well, but as long as he's with Maureen, it doesn't seem as though that will happen.

Why is he even still with her? So what if she wears those short skirts? So what if she's loud and attractive, and I'm just kind of there? He should realize that I've been here when Maureen hasn't! When she left Mark's broken heart on the floor, squished under the toe of one of her high-heeled boots, I was there for him; I'm always there for him.

_If you could see that I'm the one who understands you  
Been here all along so why can't you see?  
You belong with me  
You belong with me_

Maureen dumped him on his sorry ass, and then came back. Multiple times. She didn't apologize once, even though that's what Mark wanted. For her to apologize. He would have forgiven her either way, but he needed for her to know that she hurt him. I knew that. Hell, I'm the one that comforted him. I'm the one that's always understood him. Not Maureen, Me. He belongs with Me, but he just can't see it.

_Walking the streets with you in your worn out jeans  
I cant help thinking this is how it ought to be  
Laughing on the park bench thinking to myself  
Hey isn't this easy?_

"Why don't we go for a walk?" Mark asked. "I have some stuff to film, anyway. Wanna come along?" He asked, more out of habit than an actual invitation. I always turned him down, anyway. Then he would ask Maureen. She would pout and complain about it, but she'd go with him.

"Sure." I smiled, putting my guitar down and standing up. Mark hid his look of surprise well, but I still saw it. I know him too well.

Ten minutes later we were outside. It was a sunny day, and pretty mild considering how cold New York can get in the spring. We were walking, and laughing, and having a great time.

As we talked, I wondered why it couldn't be like this all the time. Just me and Mark. My Mark. Sigh. No, not my Mark. Maureen owned his heart. I was just renting him for a while. But this, whatever we were doing, being together, is so easy. Why can't we stay like this, forever?

_And you've got a smile that could light up this whole town  
I haven't seen it in awhile, since she brought you down  
You say you find I know you better than that  
Hey, Whatcha doing with a girl like that?_

We were swapping jokes and stories back and forth the whole day. I can honestly say it was the best conversation I've had with anyone in a while. After a particularly stupid joke, he turned to me, rolled his eyes and started cracking up. He has such a gorgeous laugh, and a smile that could light up this whole city.

He never laughs like that when he's with Maureen. Only when he's with me does he show this much emotion. So why does he stick around Maureen?

_She wears high heels, I wear sneakers  
She's cheer captain and I'm on the bleachers  
Dreaming bout the day when you'll wake up and find  
That what you're looking for has been here the whole time_

_If you could see that I'm the one who understands you  
Been here all along so why can't you see?  
You belong with me_

We're hanging back at the loft, just chilling out, relaxing, talking. Then in walks Maureen, clad in high heels and an outfit that was too preppy for even a high school cheerleader.

"Hi Pookie." She purred, slipping her arms around Mark's waist. This time I not-so-subtly coughed "Get a room!" And Maureen laughed a trill, light laugh.

"Jealous, are we now Roggy?" She asked, giggling. I scoffed and turned away, so they couldn't see my face turn pink. Maureen giggled again and pulled Mark out of the apartment. He turned and gave me a half-wave goodbye.

"See you, Rog." He called, meekly.

"I'll be here." I said, as the door closed. "I'll be here. Always am. Always have been. The whole time."

_Standing by, waiting at your back door  
All this time how could you not know that?  
You belong with me  
You belong with me_

I took a deep breath and knocked on Mark's door. It was late, and I'd been tossing and turning all night. This was it, though. I was going to tell him that I loved him, and that he should be with me, not Maureen.

"Mark?" I called quietly. "You there?"

A minute later the door opened, revealing Mark, clad in only Boxers and socks. I gulped a minute, trying to avert my gaze to his eyes, not his…

"Yeah, Rog?" He said. "Are you ok?" Concern lined his face. Always so caring, he was.

"I…uh…" C'mon Roger. Tell him! Tell him! Tell him that he belongs with you!

"I… uhm… Sorry, Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry for waking you. G'night, Mark." I said, backing up, and quickly retreating to my room.

'Chicken.' A voice in the back of my head snickered. I sighed but couldn't help agreeing with it.

_Oh I remember you driving to my house in the middle of the night  
I'm the one who makes you laugh when you know you're about to cry  
I know your favorite songs and you tell me about your dreams  
I think I know where you belong. I think I know it's with me._

I awoke that night to noises coming from the room down the hall. I had fallen asleep with my guitar in my arms and my head flopped over onto the couch. Yawning, I moved the instrument onto the table, stood up and stretched.

"Mark?" I called down the hallway. "That you?"

I ventured toward the door, knocking hesitantly. I heard the mattress shifting and Mark appeared at the doorway, eyes red, glasses askew. He sniffed once, then spoke, his voice raspy and tired sounding.

"Yeah, Rog. Are you alright?" I shook my head. Amazing. He looks like he's been crying all night and then he asks if I'm ok.

"I think I should be asking you the same thing. What's the matter Mark?" I asked, moving into his room and sitting down on the edge of the bed, patting the space next to me. He sat down gingerly, and took a breath, rubbing his eyes once more.

"Maureen cheated. Again." He admitted, not meeting my eye, looking instead at the floor. A swell of anger at Maureen whirled around inside me. Mark deserved better than her. Hell, he deserved better than me, but anyone was better than Maureen.

"Oh, Mark." I put my arm around him, worried that I might be going too far. Apparently not, because he fell into my arms, crying into my shoulder. I rubbed his back in small circles. "You deserve better than her." I whispered into his blonde hair. He sniffed again, his tears subsiding a bit.

"You know, sometimes I dream about her. What would happen if she never left. But I always wake up too early." He whispered.

"Well…" I gulped, turning away slightly, scared of his reaction to my next statement. "Maybe it's because you doing belong with her. Maybe you belong with… with me."

I felt his gaze turn towards me, and his fingers met my cheek, turning my head toward him. I looked into his eyes, and before I could even process a rational thought, our lips met. I don't know if I leaned in first, or if Mark did, but either way, the outcome was magnificent.

We broke away after a few seconds, Mark still nested in my arms, his hand still on my cheek.

"Woah." He whispered, his breath tickling my neck. I laughed lightly.

"My thoughts exactly." I smiled. "You don't know how long I've wanted to do that." I admitted to him.

"Really?" He asked, his eyes wide with surprise. I nodded, feeling blood rush to my cheeks. He smiled at me. "You're cute when you blush." He pecked me on the lips, and I smirked at him a bit.

"I told you. I was right." I grinned at him. Mark's brows came together for a moment.

"Told me what? What were you right about?" He asked questioningly.

"That you belong with me."

Can't you see that I'm the one who understand you?  
Been here all along so why can't you see?  
You belong with me

_Standing by or waiting at your back door  
All this time how could you not know that baby  
You belong with me  
You belong with me_

_Have you ever thought just maybe  
You belong with me  
You belong_ _with me_

_You Belong With Me…_


End file.
